


Death is the Road to Awe

by pikasafire



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikasafire/pseuds/pikasafire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal doesn’t know how or when, but Will Graham is going to die. And Hannibal will be the one to kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death is the Road to Awe

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short ficlet, dipping my toes into the water and trying to get a feel for the characters. This fandom looks like it’s going to be _fun_.

He’s going to kill Will Graham.

Hannibal knows this as surely as he knows his own name. He doesn’t know how, or when. But Will Graham is going to die and Hannibal will be the one to kill him.

He thinks about it sometimes, when Will’s pacing his office, anxious and prickly and so full of life that Hannibal _wants_.

// _Strangulation perhaps; Will seems like he might enjoy that. By hand, of course, nothing as callous as ropes or ties. Though the image of Will, strung up and naked, crimson tie around his throat has its merits._ //

“What do you want from life?” Will asks, turning suddenly.

Although Hannibal’s taken a little off guard, he doesn’t show it, face carefully composed. He takes a moment to think about it. “I suppose I wish to be happy.” He says. “Isn’t that what most people want?”

// _When he’s not expecting it. Creeping into the soft darkness of Will’s bedroom. It’s not hard to pick that lock, wait in the shadows until Will’s deep in sleep, dreaming._ //

Will scoffs, “That’s not an answer.”

“And what is?” Hannibal moves, keeping a few steps between them, but close enough that Hannibal could touch him if he wanted. “What do you want from life, Will?”

“I don’t know. To be left alone?”

Gently chiding, “That’s not quite true.”

// _Will_ knows _when Hannibal wakes him, but he doesn’t struggle, lying still and defiant, tilting his chin up to make room for Hannibal’s hands. He_ wants _this._ //

Will shrugs, scuffing his feet a little on the carpet. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

“You want to quit working for the FBI?”

“It’s- I. I’m too close.” Will says, voice shaking a little, “I can’t keep doing it. I keep bringing-” He shakes his head, like dislodging an unpleasant thought, “I bring... things back.”

// _He keeps his eyes open until he can’t, falling still, limp and unconscious. Hannibal leans forward, presses a kiss to Will’s lax mouth._ //

“You’re afraid of turning into one of them.” Hannibal says. It’s not a question. “Have you told Jack?”

“I tried.” Will says. Hannibal waits for him to speak again, but nothing.

// _He rearranges his hands around Will’s throat, pressing soft and sure, just enough to hear Will’s breath stutter, shudder and, finally, stop._ //

*

“Jack’s got a new case for me.” 

// _He could kill Will in stages. It’s really too dangerous to be sensible, but perhaps Will Graham is worth it. Keeping him like a beloved pet, chained up and defiant._ //

“You said you told Jack you wanted to stop.” Hannibal says, “Have you said anything to him since about leaving?”

Will laughs, bitter and self-deprecating. “Jack make it clear when I mentioned it the first time that it wasn’t my choice to make.”

“He made you feel guilty.”

// _Cook a roast from Will’s thigh, take it in to where Will lays drugged and woozy on the couch. He feeds Will parts of himself, tenderly. Will eating from his hand like a particularly friendly stray._ //

Will shrugs, “He always does. He says that without my-” A pause as he struggles for the word. “- _imagination_ , If I didn’t help, I’m as good as killing people myself.”

The thought stirs Hannibal, the twist of interest in his stomach.

“How did that make you feel?”

*

“Any progress on the case?”

// _Perhaps he won’t kill Will until much later. A young, talented protege. Will has the potential to become such a beautiful killer, someone for him to share his craft with, gorgeous as he pulls a knife lovingly across his victim's throat, under Hannibal's own watchful eye._ //

“This killer, he’s _different_ from the last few.”

“Aren’t they all different?” Hannibal asks.

Will at work is _incandescent_. Bright and beautiful and broken. “Yes and no.” Will says, pushes his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose, leans forward like he’s imparting wise knowledge. “This one doesn’t care. The last two victims have been found, butchered and discarded in back alleys. No traces of the reverence he treated the first three with.”

“Perhaps he’s lost interest in killing.” Hannibal says. “He’s winding down. The thrill isn’t there anymore.”

// _After a few years, he’ll tire of Will. Then it will be quick and unexpected; a sharp slice across the throat, a sudden blow to the head. Less than Will deserves but something that needs to be done before Will gets too smart._ //

“Then why not just stop completely? It doesn’t make any sense to kill without the urge to. He’d be safer if he just stopped.”

// _Will’s always liked teriyaki. He’ll be delicious in a stir-fry._ //

“Maybe he’s not after safety.”

They both know Hannibal’s not just talking about the killer.

*

// _Will’s death could be something quick and painless, but it seems like such a waste to kill Will quickly. Someone like Will Graham needs to be killed in exactly the right way. Something respectful, befitting of his skills and talents. A death to be_ savoured.//

“We caught him.” Will says the next time they meet, overly serious. “An accountant. Apparently, a very _bored_ accountant.”

“It’s always the quiet ones.” Hannibal quips, amused.

Will cracks a smile at that.

“Have you given any more thought to leaving the FBI?” Hannibal asks, “Talking to Jack?”

A heavy silence. Will rubs at the back of his neck, a nervous tell that Hannibal watches with detached interest. “I can’t.” He says after a moment. “I think Jack’s right.”

“You feel responsible.” Hannibal says, “For the actions of others. You can’t control what others do, Will. You can only protect yourself.”

Will shrugs, “I can protect others.” He says, sounding certain. “Maybe that’s more important than protecting myself.”

// _A slow death. A quiet death_ //

Hannibal smiles. He may not be certain on the specifics. But Will Graham’s days are marked.

END


End file.
